


Shards

by tangerine (arte)



Category: Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Crossover, Episode: s05e04 The End, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arte/pseuds/tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>In which Croatoan virus spreads in the Avenger universe. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Are we in alternate universe?"</p><p>"Well, well, what do you know, you're not entirely hopeless," Gabriel gave a mocking clap. "Yes, the breech between the worlds opened right underneath our feet. We fell."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pain. 

It still surprised him. 

Cas groaned, instinctively reaching toward his wound. He curled up miserably. He couldn't see straight. Everything was tilting out of control. He fumbled around the ground, trying to raise himself upward. A part of him was aware enough to know that nothing good would come from lying still.

His fear came true a moment later as someone gripped his left shoulder. He jerked back.

"Hold still," an exasperated voice told him.

Cad stilled, not because he was in particular mood to follow orders but because he was surprised. The veil of pain suddenly parted. Gulping a shaky breath, he turned. An unfamiliar face was looking down at him.

"Good. Try not to die on me, would ya? I can't bring you back."

The ex-angel only stared, disoriented. Then it came to him - the ruined hotel, demons, the ring of fire. He abruptly set up. "Gabriel," he hissed as his still tender side made itself known. It appeared the archangel didn't or couldn't heal him completely.

"That's me. You remember what happened?"

"I freed you." 

"Hey, I didn't knock you out," the archangel raised his hands in surrender as he heard a hint of accusation in the other's tone. "Relax a bit. Can't you sense it?"

Angels had a habit of failing to give a straight answer. So instead of futily asking for clarification, Cas chose to comply and look around for himself. Even a brief glance told him -what did Dean say in this kind of situation, ah, yes- that they were not in Kansas anymore. For one, the hotel they had been in was now replaced with narrow alleyway. Above them, skyscrapers stood tall and undamaged, and outside of the alley, passerbys bustled on. They provided astonishing sight. People were walking without a care, casually playing with their phones. No one did that anymore with the threat of Croats. Cas narrowed his eyes. Time travel was his first suspect, but something felt off.

"Are we in alternate universe?" He hazarded a guess, and earned a condecending clap for his effort. Cas struggled to stand up. It might be petty, but he no longer wanted to give height advantage to the runaway angel.

"Well, well, what do you know, you're not entirely hopeless. Yes, the breech between the worlds opened right under our feet. We fell."

Fallen, again. Bitterness welled inside him, but he pushed it away in favor of solving the current problem. "Can't you send us back?"

"You think I want to go back to that hell hole?"

"Of course," Cas returned shortly. His head ached. He was sore all over. His patience was wearing thin. "Then can you send _me_ back?"

The archangel looked at him, his smirk gone. His expression revealed that he couldn't believe how deem the ex-angel was being. "What do you think is waiting for you, Castiel?" He spread his arms, encompassing the lively noise people were making around them. "This is the world worth living. Back there? Lucifer destroyed everything."

Cas clicked his mouth shut. No immediate retort came to him.

_Needles, scapels, salt, holy water. Speechless, Cas stared at the arsenal in front of him. Dean averted his eyes, busying himself with gathering every instrument he needed for the deed._

_"Dean," he breathed out, slowly shaking his head. Something squeezed at his throat. The word came out so softly that he doubted it would make it to the other man's ears, but it weighed enough to break the brittle silence. Dean slammed Ruby's knife on the tray._

_The man exhaled harshly. "Tell me, what other way do we have?" Dean must have intended the question to be challenging, but what actually came out was closer to pleading than anything. The clock ticked. No way out was offered._

_Cas was only human._

_Dean's face hardened. Wall built and dulled his eyes like the last time he had to face Alastair. "This has to be done," he informed the gleaming knife without raising his head. It offered no comfort._

"Not everything," Cas managed to whisper. He was hopeless, hapless, but he couldn't let go. The world was broken, but he clutched at the empty shell possessively. It was all he had. He forced his feet to move. If Gabriel was unwilling to help him, he would find another way. He had to go, there was no debate about it.

"Kid," another word imbued with too much meaning. Cas was glad that he was facing away from the archangel. He didn't want to figure out what it could possibly mean. He wanted to get away.

Scream rang out. His body reacted instictively at the familiar sound. His hand whipped out the gun and his legs carried him to the source of the noise. A man was attacking a woman. More importantly, the man was a Croat.

He didn't think. 

He pulled the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony Stark was sitting in the police station, and it wasn't his fault. No, really, he was even sober. One measely sip of whiskey, and bam, shit happened. Wrong time, wrong place, that's all it was. He wasn't the one who started the bar fight. 

He did smash some guy's head with a chair, but that had been pure self defense. The guy slit his palm with broken beer bottle and tried to feed Tony his blood. Seriously, what the hell? The billionaire thought that he showed great restraint by not summoning Iron Man to repulsor the creep off. The cop totally misjudged the situation, having arrived just in time to witness Tony swinging the chair in a perfect arch.

The unfairly arrested man drummed his fingers on his knees. The officer had disappeared on him after allowing him a phone call and shoving him inside a holding cell. He didn't appreciate the wait. The fact that he had to call Steve Rogers as a result of depressing process of elimination deepened his displeasure.

"Hey, what did you guys do?" He inquired loudly at the empty air. No answer. Tough luck. He couldn't see them now since they were blocked by the wall, but he knew there were two other guys in the adjacent holding cell. 

"You know I know you are here right? If you're hoping I'll shut up just because you're staying quiet, well, I'm perfectly willing to show you how wrong your are."

A beat of silence, and then laughter came from the other side. "Oh, boy, finally, someone with a sense of humor," the mysterious man number one chuckled. "I like you. Who are you?"

Tony had a half a mind to retort with 'I asked you first' but stopped. He had been bored enough to prod possibly dangerous criminals into talking, so why not push the conversation along? He still had his bracelet, so the worst case scenario, he could simply blast out of here and knock them down. Decision made, he nodded to himself. "Tony Stark, you?"

"Really," the man snorted. "Were your parents hardcore Marvel fans?"

"What fans?"

"You know, Tony Stark. Iron Man, superhero billionaire."

"Thanks. I'm a big fan of mine, if that's what you're asking."

".....huh."

That wasn't the typical God-I-am-talking-with-a-celebrity kind of sound. It echoed oddly, so Tony asked, "is that a good huh, or a bad huh?"

A new voice joined them, preventing him from getting an answer. "How do you know him?" The voice was deep and raspy enough to audition for a Batman role. 

The funny guy hummed. "You remember that case with a battered wife and a bear?"

A what now?

"Yes. I saw the candy wrapper," Batman wannabe replied in an equally criptic manner. The pair of them were doing a fine impression of 70s spies.

"It was an artistic touch. Anyway, the culprit the wife saw? That was his friend."

"Oh." 

Again with the silent realization. The engineer frowned. He didn't like it when people had eureka moments without him. It itched when there was something he didn't know.

"Tony!" 

He snapped out of his musing at the sound. There was only one person on Earth who could pack so much disapproval in a single word.

"Hey, Cap," he greeted cheerfully. "You brought money? Let's get out of here."

"We can't," Steve said, crossing his arms.

"What? Why?"

"The police is too busy right now. All hands in deck, so to speak. There are lots of unruly behaviors tonight."

Steve looked at him very pointedly, but Tony ignored it. He didn't do anything wrong. Steve might not have been offered a lot of details over the phone, and he might have been dragged to the station in the middle of his voulnteer work, but there was no need to jump to conclusion. 

"Wow, it's true," a red-headed man exclaimed as he came in. His uniform showed that, even though he looked incredibly young, he was a cop.

The gangly young man shifted in a flustered way as he made a brief eye contact with Cap. "Sergent Williams said I would be in for a treat if I returned now, and oh, wow. Uh, could you sign me an autograph if I went to fetch a paper?"

Tony snickered. It was extremely amusing to watch professionals suddenly turning into babbling fanboys at the sight of Rogers, especially when the man in question tended to get uncomfortable with the attention.

"Sure," Steve forced a smile, polite as ever. As soon as the kid turned, however, he also turned to scowl at his unhelpful teammate. The billionaire continued to grin, completely undeterred.

In retrospect, Tony should have known that the universe wouldn't allow him to bask in a good mood. 

"Run," warned the rough voice, dark and foreboding. It raised goosebumps on Tony's arms. He got annoyed with himself for having this reaction, but couldn't help it. Was his discomfort obvious? He flicked his eyes up to check Steve's reaction and froze. Icy tendrils gripped his heart.

The weedy kid was aiming his gun at Captain America's back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony was a bit difficult to write. Please R&R? I'd like to hear your opinions!


	3. Chapter 3

_Bang!_

The gun shot fired before Tony could shout out a warning. Steve, however, saw the way his teammate froze and twisted away on his own. Still, it wasn't enough to keep him clear out of the bullet's path. He bit back a scream and staggered as crimson bloomed on his side. 

The attacker didn't let the chance slip by. Without hesitation, he lunged with a fist aimed at the soldier's temple. 

Steve barely blocked the punch and his arm trembled with tension. His eyes held a measure of shock at the force behind the attack. Injured or no, a weedy kid just past his legal age shouldn't have been able to match the supersoldier. The struggle lasted longer than expected. At last, Steve managed to kick his opponent away with a burst of strength. 

It was a testimony of how wrong things were when the kid got back on his feet without much trouble.

"Who are you working for?" With the distance between them afforded, the captain attempted interrogation. As he heard the question, Tony had to amit that it was a bit unusal that they had no clue about who the guy was. Their enemies usually loved to declare their identities out loud. Yet, the attacker ignored the perfectly good opening to monologue, and opted to pull out a knife from his jacket. Tony thought it was a signal for Round 2. 

Once again, the man succeeded in surprising him by slashing his own wrist. Tony blinked at the completely deranged behavior.

The fuck was the guy playi-

_Bang!_

The young copper toppled sideways before Tony could sort through his thoughts. A stunned silence filled the room. Steve's eyes shot to the other cell. "What was that?" He demanded.

"Don't touch his blood. He's infected," the deep voice said, completely disregarding Cap's question. Rogers arranged his feature into a stern, son-this-is-serious face.

"No freebies," the cheerful voice piped in, halting the righteous speech that was about to come. "We'll talk after you let us out."

"You think I would do as you said that easily?"

"I know, I know, everyone is paranoid these days, you can't trust us." Tony could almost hear a careless shrug. "But look around you, self-harming attackers, empty police stations, and you're baffled. I have the answer. Think about it. Can you risk ignoring me?"

"You can't get out without me either."

Snort. "Hello? We've got a gun here?"

"How do you have that?"

"I'm very talented."

Steve gritted his teeth. From experience, Tony knew that the man didn't appreciate flippant attitude, especially when public danger was in stake. Usually, he wouldn't mind seeing Captain America dressing down someone who wasn't him but-

"There's something going on here," Tony reluctantly agreed with the stranger, recalling the guy who had tried to feed him blood earlier. "Although he was one crazy cookie with penchant for self-harm, the guy matched your strength." 

"Al-righty, three against one!" the stranger crowed. "Come on, let us out already. Check out the dead guy's pocket, you would find the keys."

"How do you know that?"

"Obviously, once he beat you, he was going to target the rest of us."

The captain opened his mouth, but again, the strangered interrupted. "As long as these bars are in front of me, my lips are sealed."

Steve's eyes flickered toward Tony. The billionaire gave a small nod. His cell-neighbors may or may not be lying, but they needed to check.

Tony was released first. "Steve, remind me to drink up whiskey in a tower like a good little billionaire. Apparently, bars are bad, bad idea."

"Maybe it's a sign that you should quit drinking altogether." 

"Blasphemy," Tony quipped as he move to stand next to Steve. At last, he got to face the deep and light voice pair in person. 

"Like what you see?" A short blond guy grinned at him, head cocked and hands in pockets. Behind him, a darked haired man remained silent, leaning against the wall. 

"Well, I can't comment when I don't even know your name."

"Please," the blond pffted. "Like you don't have dozens of anonymous one-nights under your belt. But since I don't want to join that group, I'm Gabriel, this is Cas." 

"Glad to make aquainatance," Steve said in a clipped tone, eyes warning against any funny business. Keys jingled in his hand. "But you've got some explaining to do."

**Author's Note:**

> Developed from my previous drabble. This crossover idea really wouldn't let me go. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
